Destination Arda
by Kara's Aunty
Summary: The Middle Earth Tourist Board is proud to present its very first guide to the most exciting holiday hotspots in Arda! So come on in, soak up the atmosphere and discover where YOU could be spending your next Summer holiday!
1. Introducing the METB

**Disclaimer:** Lord of the Rings is owned by J.R.R. Tolkien, his family, New Line cinema, etc. I have written this for my own enjoyment.

**Credit:** Tuckborough dot net, www dot spartacus dot schoolnet dot co dot uk.

**Destination Arda**

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Welcome to Destination Arda, the brand new information centre of the Middle Earth Tourist Board! Here you will find details on the best holiday hotspots in the wonderful world of Middle Earth (and beyond!).

With its sweeping landscapes and manifold races, Middle Earth can offer a wide range of scenery and activities for even the most discerning of travellers.

For the adventurous holidaymaker, we offer hiking trips on the Ash Mountains (one of numerous mountain ranges available) or spelunking in Moria.

For the military buff, our certified tour guides will be happy to show you any one of Middle Earth's many legendary battlefields. Visit the plain of Dagorlad and hear tell of the mighty War of the Last Alliance! Photograph the very faces of its many fallen in the Dead Marshes! Explore the valley of Helm's Deep in Rohan, or be the one to finally uncover the fabled ruins of Gondolin!

For the more academically-minded, or the artistic of heart, fear not! While away your time in any one of our ancient havens and study the lore of elvenkind. Marvel at the complex history of the immortals as you nibble on lembas; thrill at the ethereal beauty of Lothlórien or Imladris, which will have you spouting poetical masterpieces as you sip on a glass of potent Dorwinion wine!

If sunshine and leisure is more to your pleasure, allow us to recommend a trip to the Bay of Belfalas, where golden beaches and spicy seafood are the order of the day. The bustling metropolis of Minas Anor is but two days ride away; and boasting seven tiers of stunning architecture and fountains that will take your breath away, its location by two of the major thoroughfares in Middle Earth makes it an ideal place for trade. Its markets are famous throughout the world for their abundant selections of exotic fruits, jewellery, silks and spices.

These are but a few examples of what Middle Earth has to offer. The various lands and regions will be explored in individual detail as we proceed. Furthermore, the Middle Earth Tourist Board is so confident that we have the right package to suit the needs of thrill-seekers, families and pensioners alike, that we are now offering a full money-back guarantee!

So pack your bags, stock up on suntan lotion and make ready to embark on the most exciting trip of your life!

_**Important Guidance**_

_Health and Safety:_

Due to the varied, exciting (and occasionally dangerous) locations available, the METB uses a five-star safety classification system, though we would recommend that visitors adhere to METB safety procedures at all times (which are issued to all visitors upon arrival). See guide below.

***** METB safety assured.

****** Negligible risk of peril, though caution required in specified areas.

******* Moderate risk of peril in specified areas. Proceed with caution.

******** Heightened risk of bodily harm. Proceed with extreme caution and fully-stocked first aid kit.

********* Serious risk of bodily harm and/or death. Bring your own coffin.

_General Information: _

All countries in Arda operate on a _cash-only_ basis. We do not accept credit cards, debit cards or cheques, though METB does offer competitive rates of exchange from pounds sterling, euros, dollars and most other currencies. Further information on this is available at Reception.

No pets allowed (with the exception of Guide and Hearing dogs). Wheelchair access to most facilities is limited, but the METB will strive to provide information on those areas best suited to our honoured customers with mobility issues.

Due to the complete absence of electricity worldwide, it is not recommended that customers bring computers, Blackberry devices or mobile phones of any kind; though battery-operated digital cameras are acceptable.

Middle Earthlings (of all races) are extremely modest in their manner of dress. Therefore, in an attempt to avoid any unpleasant international incidents, please find below a list of all items that will be immediately confiscated by the METB if found in suitcases:

_Bathing suits/Bikinis/Mankinis. _

_Shorts. _

_Mini skirts. _

_Halter-neck tops._

_Little Black Dresses/Little Dresses of Any Kind_ (particularly low- or high-cut, depending on the anatomical area they reveal).

_Wonder bras_ (or any padded brassieres, unless specifically intended for certified prosthetic purposes).

_Thongs_ (or any type of immodest underwear, particularly crotchless or edible panties).

_Stilettos. _

_Bovver boots. _

Caution: anyone discovered to be wearing white socks underneath open-toed shoes or Jesus sandals will be shot on sight. No exception.

Thank you in anticipation of your kind co-operation. And welcome to Arda!

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_Author's Note_: Inspired by 'The Ladies Guide To Middle-earth's Eligible Bachelors' by the wonderful Virtuella. I strongly suggest you all read that if you get the chance!


	2. The Shire

**Disclaimer:** Lord of the Rings is owned by J.R.R. Tolkien, his family, New Line cinema, etc. I have written this for my own enjoyment.

**Credit:** Tuckborough dot net

****

**The Shire**

_Geography: _The Shire is a pleasant green land in north-western Middle Earth, stretching 120 miles across and 150 miles from its northern to southern borders. With gently rolling hills and vast, rich fields, this is an ideal tourist destination, not only for young families and pensioners, but also careworn city slickers looking to escape the oft vicious pace of the rat race. Boasting a temperate climate and loamy soil, the Shire is well-situated for the growing of crops, and produces some of the best mushrooms in all of Arda!

_Natives:_ The Shire's indigent population are, unsurprisingly, superb agriculturalists. An intrinsically peaceful people with curly hair (on both their heads and feet), they rarely exceed a height of three feet six inches. Known locally as hobbits, they may on occasion answer to the term 'halfling', but visitors are strongly advised to avoid such terms as _dwarf _(a separate race entirely), _midget _or _short-arse_, as they will be met with both hostility and the business end of a very deadly slingshot (the hobbit weapon of choice).

Renowned for their friendly, hospitable natures, hobbits are apt to be rather suspicious of strangers; though, upon encountering a local, one may easily avoid conflict if one remains polite, courteous, and does not demand the immediate extinguishment of any and all tobacco products. (_Note: _Smoking is not considered politically incorrect in the Shire. Health warnings on the danger of smoking will be ignored by hobbits, and any offers of nicotine replacement products will be politely declined. Faux coughs from tourists and pointed glares at hobbit pipes will only produce a puzzled frown and the immediate offer of a herbal remedy to aid in the clearing of one's own air passages).

_Additional information: _As a general rule, the METB would recommend that visitors do not feed the locals as hobbits are famous for their unusually large appetites. If visitors choose to ignore this warning, then they do so at their own risk and the METB cannot be held responsible for the depletion of one's personal supplies. All health care professionals (retired or otherwise) visiting the Shire on holiday are hereby advised that lecturing hobbits on the dangers of high cholesterol, obesity and heart disease may be met with scorn, derision and multiple requests to vacate the country (on a similar note, beauticians are also strongly warned against offering free foot waxes to the locals). To ensure one's continued welcome within the Shire, we suggest all visitors refrain from offering its inhabitants any of the following: Slimfast or Weight Watchers produce, diet pills, fitness manuals and depilatory products.

_Places of Interest: _With many hobbits preferring to burrow underground, there is little in the way of grand architecture available to photograph unless one is enamoured of corn mills or granaries. Hobbiton, in the Westfarthing region, does boast a rather spectacular Party Tree, and the main town of Michel-Delving is known to host the country's only museum (known locally as The Mathom-house).

_Things to do: _Eating (and lots of it. Hobbits are suspicious of any who do not consume a minimum of six meals a day), drinking ale (it is strongly recommended that one take one's own pint-glass as the natives have only-half-pint measures), smoking (pipes only. Cigarettes and hookahs will be subject to immediate confiscation by METB officials). All of these activities may be safely undertaken in any one of the Shire's numerous inns, of which the most notable are The Green Dragon in Hobbiton (where one can catch up with all the local gossip - whether one wants to or not) and The Golden Perch in the village of Stock (rumoured to serve the finest beer in the Eastfarthing).

Additionally, the Free Fair is held every summer in Lithe (June-July), where one can snap up bargains ranging from home-made baking to hand-crafted ornaments, vintage farm equipment (rakes, scythes, harrows, sickles) and beautiful hand-stitched clothing (suitable only for children and the _very_ vertically challenged). One may also participate in any one of several exciting local sports, from sling-shotting to pie-eating.

_Things to avoid: _Boarding in the local hostelry (there are no facilities available for the average-sized human), genealogy discussions (especially within earshot of the natives), the Old Wood (the Bermuda Triangle of Middle Earth), and the borders of the Shire (infested by a criminal gang known as 'rangers' who are rumoured to shoot tourists on sight. If you think you spot one fall to your knees _immediately_ and start singing about mushrooms).

_Recommended travel accompaniments: _Bisodol, aspirin, sleeping bag.

_METB Rating: _Two stars.

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	3. Forodwaith

**Disclaimer:** Lord of the Rings is owned by J.R.R. Tolkien, his family, New Line cinema, etc. I have written this for my own enjoyment.

**Credit:** Tuckborough dot net, windows2universe dot org/earth/polar/inuit_culture, /~oa/winter/wintcamp

**Forodwaith**

* * *

_Geography:_ Also known as The Northern Waste, Forodwaith is a vast region located in the far north of Middle Earth. Bordered on its south by the Grey Mountains and the northern end of the Misty Mountains, it extends north as far as the Sea. On its west coast is the Icebay of Forochel, and the Cape of Forochel extends into the bay. At the extreme southwestern border is the northern end of the Blue Mountains. The eastern side of Forodwaith is deemed to be so wild and inhospitable that it has never been charted.

Not the ideal destination for sun-seekers or families (unless one is trying to off one's parents for the inheritance), but given its extremely cold climate and choice of mountain ranges, Forodwaith is just the ticket for fans of winter sports!

The METB advise tourists to bring their own contemporary sports equipment as there are no rental facilities available locally. However, skis and sleds may be purchased at a reasonable cost from the Cape of Forochel's market place. Please note that haggling over prices is considered rude.

_Natives: _The Lossoth, or Snowmen, live mainly on the Cape of Forochel, though some have been known to migrate to the southern shores of the Icebay. A hardy people of average height who prefer to isolate themselves from the other races of Middle Earth, they dress in the skins and furs of local wildlife, travel mainly by skis and sleds, and live in igloos, though they bear no physical resemblance to the Inuits of Earth. The Snowmen are a very private and reserved yet proud people who will not appreciate the contemporary humour of tourists. It is therefore highly inadvisable to refer to them as_ Abominable, Frosty_, _Yeti-boy_ or _Bigfoot_ as a spear in the buttock usually hurts and the METB will not be held responsible for any injuries incurred as a result of such blatant disrespect to the locals.

_Additional information: _Please note that the Lossoth wear fur to survive their harsh environment, _not_ to make a fashion statement. As such, campaigning for whale and polar bear rights or seal safety outside Chief Rocothel's home, and/or throwing red paint over his wife's lovely fur coat will cause great offence and may well result in immediate execution. Animal activists and members of PETA are strongly advised against visiting Forodwaith after just such an incident involving members of their societies almost triggered an intra-parallel-universal war. Tragically, two tourists died before the METB could intervene - their bodies have never been recovered (though the Chief's wife was spotted wearing a rather fetching nude-coloured, full-length leather coat shortly afterwards). If you insist on visiting regardless, you must abide by the local customs. End of. You have been warned.

_Places of Interest:_ The Cape of Forochel is the only ice city in all Middle Earth. It is home to hundreds of igloos of all shapes and sizes which, due to the extreme temperatures of the region, last a full nine months of the year! Though these are mainly homes for the indigenous population, the Cape does boast a large two-storey snow-barn for community meetings and celebrations. In the short summer months, accommodation is a tent-like hut which consists of a frame covered in animal skins. The official tour of the city includes the chance to build your own accommodation – igloo or tent – depending on the time of year you visit. Expert assistance is provided where required, though a surcharge may be applied for this service.

Once you have finished constructing your accommodation, you may wish to partake in some sightseeing further afield – and this is where Forodwaith _really_ shines. It has access to no less than _three_ mountain ranges! Visit the Grey Mountains, former home of Scatha the Worm! Or Carn Dum in the Misty Mountains, former stronghold of the Witch-king of Angmar! A little farther west will take you to the far northern Blue Mountains where you may indulge in a little cave-diving (spelunking) in the abandoned dwarf mines! If climbing is not your thing, visit the Icebay and explore the Ruins of Arvedui, Last King of Arthedain, who drowned in 1975 TA when his ship was driven against ice and crushed from existence!

_Things to do: _With its abundance of choice mountain ranges and vast icy plains, Forodwaith is _the_ unofficial Winter Sports capital of Middle Earth! Enjoy everything from skiing, sledding and snowboarding to ice-skating, ice mountaineering and snowmobiling. We also do special deals for group sports, so bring your friends for a fun fortnight filled with ice hockey, curling, and lots of après-ski! Or join the locals for a spot of ice-fishing or seal- and walrus-hunting in the Icebay (unless you really ARE an animal rights activist). Fancy big game hunting instead? Then take a trip with an METB-registered guide to the wild western plains of Forochel and trap your own polar bear!

_Things to avoid:_ There are no Mountain Rescue services in Middle Earth. Not a one. Nada. So under no circumstances should _anyone_ chance any of the mountain ranges without a native METB-registered guide, regardless of how skilled a mountaineer they believe themselves to be. The mountains of Middle Earth often house more than mere romantic history: some are inhabited by remnant cannibalistic servants of aforementioned Witch-King, known as Orcs. Others may house the odd band of dwarves who will happily hack the head off anyone they suspect of trying to lay an illegal claim to their mines. And in some, there are even rumours of dragons ... Cocky thrill seekers unfamiliar with the region who insist on striking out on their own risk getting lost, decapitated or even, in some cases, eaten alive (either rare or well done, depending on who or what finds them first).

_Recommended travel accompaniments: _Several layers of clothing (wool, pile/fleece, polypropylene fabrics), balaclava, mittens/gloves, socks, insulated boots, snowshoes, parka, space blanket (alternative: tin foil). Sleeping bags only required if camping outwith the Cape of Forochel as you will build your own ice-bed when constructing your igloo. Likewise camping stoves. Flare guns not recommended as they may attract dragons during the mating season (which is, unfortunately, nine months long), so try packing an industrial canister of liquid nitrogen instead (which won't alert rescuers to your location, but _will_ successfully deal with a horny dragon). Fully stocked first-aid kit required. Coffin unnecessary if all METB safety regulations strictly adhered to. If your own ignorance or deliberate flouting of these regulations results in your unfortunate expiration (and your body can be successfully located), the Snowmen will construct an environmentally-friendly ice-coffin for your own personal use (this service incurs an additional surcharge which will be added to your bill posthumously).

_METB Rating: _Four stars

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	4. Rohan

**Disclaimer:** Lord of the Rings is owned by J.R.R. Tolkien, his family, New Line cinema, etc. I have written this for my own enjoyment (and maybe yours). No profit of any kind is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Please Review!**

**Credit:** Tuckborough dot net, Wikipedia, lotro dot mmodb dot com

**Rohan**

* * *

_Geography: _Stretching 300 miles from north to south and 300 more from east to west, Rohan is also referred to as the Riddermark, or the Mark. The capital of Rohan is the hill-fort of Edoras, which is located on a hill at the mouth of a valley of the White Mountains known as Harrowdale.

Rohan is a land mainly of pastures and tall, lush grasslands; but there are also deep valleys aplenty courtesy of the White Mountains, which begin in the northwest of the country and march south before curving along the southern regions into neighbouring Gondor. The River Anduin forms the eastern border to the Emyn Muil and continues south into Gondor. The River Entwash flows east from Fangorn Forest on Rohan's western border before it curves south to the Anduin, dividing the Riddermark into two great plains in the process (Eastemnet and Westemnet). The country's warm-continental climate generally brings hot summers and brisk but short winters. Rohan's national flag is a white horse on a green field.

_Natives:_ Rohan is inhabited by the Rohirrim, a people of herdsmen and farmers who are well-known for their horses and cavalry. Generally, the Rohirrim are blue- or grey-eyed, tall and boast flowing blond(e) locks (men and women). The men of Rohan are built like a brick outhouse. Every. Last. One. These hairy monoliths are mostly illiterate, but have excellent voices and are well able to knock out a good historical tune (Warning: they are also very likely to knock out the first idiot who calls them 'stoopid' just because they can't read). A fiercely proud and wilful people, the Rohirrim are nonetheless true-hearted, generous in thought and deed and _the_ best horsemen in Arda. Their expertise in all things equestrian has earned them the title 'Horse-lords' and they treat their horses like family! So tourists beware: anyone caught eyeing their enormous steeds and uttering phrases like 'knackers yard', 'glue factory' or 'dog food' will find themselves besieged by a horde of angry blonds eager to knock the stuffing out of them.

Loyal to a fault and staunch allies of Gondor, the Rohirrim are extremely skilled warriors who have ridden countless times to the aid of their southern neighbours, suffering great losses of their own in terms of both men and horses in the process.

Note: The term 'Shield-maidens of Rohan' refers to a select group of women (usually of the aristocracy or nobility) who are as well-trained and versed in the arts of battle as their male counterparts. For reasons unknown (possibly cultural) only virgins ever attain this rank, though - when trained - they are rarely called to war. The most famous shield-maiden of all is Éowyn daughter of Éomund, sister of the current King of Rohan, who recently saw action in the Battle of the Pelennor Fields (fought on a very big farm in Gondor).

_Additional information: _The majority of Rohan's population lives in its southern region, in the wooded eaves and deep valleys of the White Mountains. There are some scattered settlements further north in the Wold (near Fangorn Forest) and the Eastemnet. These consist mainly of herdsmen and their families who tend the huge herds of grazing horses that roam the vast grassy plains like so many enormous, alarming, battle-trained sheep. Caution: if visiting the plains DO NOT approach these wild animals unless accompanied by a bona fide Rohirric herdsman.

Rohan is also the birthplace of a breed of wild horses known as the _mearas_, known to be much stronger, faster and far more intelligent than the average equine. It is also rumoured that they live as long as men, though this is a claim the METB will be unable to verify for at least another seventy years.

Note: A substantial reward is being offered by an unidentified noble of Rohan for the safe return of Shadowfax, lord of the mearas, who he claims was 'pinched by an old man in a long grey dress' on 30th February 3019. Sources in the royal court angrily refute this, insisting that the old man's dress was white, and that their former king, Théoden, awarded the meara to this elderly stranger shortly before his death (after the monarch received a hugely successful makeover courtesy of the dapper old gent).

_Places of Interest: _Fancy a visit to the twilight zone? Then visit ultra-creepy Fangorn Forest, which is said to be haunted (some even claim it can _move_, though whether that is before or after one has swallowed enough alcohol to flatten a troll has yet to be proven)!

How about a little battle re-enactment instead? Then Helm's Deep, which guards the southern side of the Gap of Rohan, is _the_ place for you! This ancient fortress is the home of the recent and staggering victory of a mere three thousand Rohirrim against an army over _three times_ its number (didn't we tell you these boys are not to be toyed with?). Learn basic sword skills under the direct tutelage of newly appointed Marshal of the West-mark (and Rohan's _only _redhead) Lord Erkenbrand. Pay your respects at the burial mounds of the fallen outside the Hornburg, then wander through the blast-hole in the Deeping-wall on your way to one of the most amazing sights in all Arda: the Glittering Caves!

Extending far under the mountains, the Glittering Caves are awash with spectacular passages, halls and high chambers. Winding stairs and underground lakes abound throughout the caves, and countless stalactites and stalagmites dazzle in hues of rose, yellow and white! Truly a feast simply waiting for the eyes to gorge on – if you can tear them away from the smooth cave walls, that is: _they_ are encrusted with fist-sized diamonds, rubies, and emeralds! Swoon as you follow the veins of gold and other precious ores which run alongside the heart-stoppingly huge gems!

If your tastes run to a more subtle splendour, then the capital city, Edoras, is an absolute must. This charming little royal hotspot is built on a green hill and surrounded by a great wall, a thorny fence and a dike. Unfortunately, it doesn't boast a castle – or even a palace, In fact, it contains little more than a few hundred wooden huts and some very suspect plumbing. Even the city's royal abode, Meduseld, is only known as the Golden Hall because its thatched roof gleams golden in the sunlight. So why should the average fee-paying tourist bother with it? Because what it lacks in sophistication, Edoras more than makes up for with its secret weapon …

Oh, yes, what Edoras _does_ have is the recently crowned, seriously sexy, testosterone-fuelled, six feet, six inches tall, hubba hubba hotty that is Éomer King! _And he's still single!_ But it can't last long; with no more war to distract him, this fine figure of a man will soon to be putting _himself_ out to stud to secure his royal lineage. So saddle up and get in there before the rush starts, ladies, because this absolutely stonking specimen of über-masculinity is no mere figurehead monarch who prances around like a privileged, polo-playing toy soldier. No siree! Éomer son of Éomund has personally put his very own life on the line for one king (who fell) and two countries (which did not) in the recent War of the Ring (fought over a very expensive piece of men's jewellery)! And he emerged from all hostilities without so much as a scratch! A noble warrior! A superb horseman! A great leader! As the King of the Mark, Éomer is highly literate, bilingual, loves a good song (he and his men have been known to belt out the odd tune _during battle!_), is filthy rich and makes Brad Pitt look like an ageing warthog. So if you're looking for a man who can _really _treat you like a queen, you could do nothing _but_ worse than seek out the highly eligible and deeply delectable King of the Horse-lords himself! That is, if you can get to him through the horde of statuesque, blonde, Rohirric females throwing themselves at his feet (and every other part of his spectacular anatomy. And they _will_ fight you for the privilege, ladies. Every step of the way. _With a sword_ ...).

And fear not, gentlemen, the METB has not forgotten about you! On the contrary: this very same war has sadly depleted the male population of Rohan to such an extent that women now outnumber men _four to one_! If these lovely ladies lack the lineage to secure themselves a place in the King's affections, they will be more than willing to settle for _anything_ golden-haired (as long as it's not canine and has a pulse).

Note: there is now a seventy-five percent discount for single Swedish male equestrians and/or jockeys travelling to Rohan, though horse-riding experience not strictly necessary as the skill can be taught in a free two-week crash course. Further information is available at Reception.

_Things to do: _Horse-riding (and lots of it). Or go back to basics and camp out in a tent with the herdsmen of the Westemnet as they tend to their equine friends! Try your hand at white-water rafting down the mighty River Anduin. The endless range of the White Mountains offers numerous opportunities for skilled mountaineers and rock-climbers. Perhaps you would care to test your bravery by spending a night in the (allegedly) recently-vacated Paths of the Dead? Or study the rich history of the land by spending a long weekend with the Minstrels of the Court, who will sing to you tales of the Northmen, Éothéod, and other mighty ancestors of the Rohirrim. Among these is the legendary first king of Rohan, Eorl the Young, who won the land formerly known as Calenardhon for his growing population after riding to the defence of Gondor (in the Battle of the Field of Celebrant) with seven thousand fully armed Riders and several hundred mounted archers!

_Things to avoid:_ One-night stands. The Rohirrim - like all peoples of Middle Earth - are very proper and chaste. There is_ no such thing_ as extra-marital nookie in Arda. So, gentlemen, if you've bagged yourself a nubile blonde Rohirric beauty and are looking to get into her kegs, be prepared to meet your new in-laws first. Remember; the men of Rohan may be outnumbered, but it still only takes _one _angry male relation (and, in many cases, one angry_ female _relation) to devalue the collective family insurance of _six_ horny tourists. If you insist on trying your luck regardless, be prepared to kiss your fertility goodbye and have it replaced with a permanent urostomy bag.

Faking fencing ability to impress the natives: don't do it. You'll only make a complete posterior of yourself. Particularly as the Rohirrim use really big, manly broadswords, as opposed to the poncy épée or foil efforts utilised by hoity toity public school boys dabbling in prissy competitive sports.

Faking riding expertise: as above.

_Travel accompaniments: _Riding accoutrements, crotch-guards, proof of identity (required by any single males claiming to be Swedish equestrians and/or jockeys who hope to remain in Rohan for an extended period of time. Passports only, please).

_METB Rating: _Three to four stars (depending on where you go and who you annoy).

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_Author's Note_: Ohmigosh, I could've written about Rohan _forever!_ There is simply so much more to cover than I could ever have imagined and I don't really feel like this chapter (although almost twice the length of any other) has done them any justice.

Never mind, I hope I've got the main parts, and that you enjoyed it. The chapter may be subject to nips and tweaks, though, so don't be surprised if you read it again later on and discover its longer …

_24 hours later:_

**Seriously?** Not even _one_ bit of feedback? Why is it that all the crappy Mary-Sues and ooc (slash/incest/twincest) fics floating about out there are racking up reviews and my fics (which I take great pains to make as accurate, authentic & entertaining as possible - not that I'm suggesting no-one else does, but still) can barely attract a handful of comments? Honestly, it is _so_ disheartening when my fics get hits but not even one (or barely a handful of) review(s). What's even _more_ frustrating is that people are clearly enjoying them, given the generous numbers some of them are being Favourited in; but in most cases these Favourites _vastly _outweigh reviews.

I know I'm not a brilliant writer, but I'm definitely not crap and I do, in all humility, genuinely believe my stories are entertaining. So if you read these please _do_ try to leave a comment to let me know what you thought - even if it's only one or two words. That way I won't feel like I'm working for nothing.

Thanks,

Kara's confused Aunty.

Update: therindegmail(dot)com - couldn't reply to your review normally as you have no account, but thanks for that! Gondor isn't next, but it will come up eventually :)


	5. Ettenmoors

**Disclaimer:** Lord of the Rings is owned by J.R.R. Tolkien, his family, New Line cinema, etc. I have written this for my own enjoyment (and maybe yours). No profit of any kind is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Credit:** Tuckborough dot net, lotr wiki, http:/mymegaverse..?topic=670&start=

**Ettenmoors**

* * *

_Geography: _Highland region west of the Misty Mountains, north of Rivendell and southeast of Mount Gram. A barren wilderness of jagged hills in its north, deep valleys running up to the foothills of the Misty Mountains in its south (known as the Ettendales) and rough landscape throughout, which is strewn with bizarre clusters of rocks and boulders ranging in size from that of a man's fist to that of a two-storey house. Birthplace of the River Hoarwell, which flows southwest through the land. Due to its northerly position in Arda, the Ettenmoors are always cold and see the heaviest and longest snowfalls outside of Forodwaith, apart from a brief period in late Spring when the steady cold wind from farther north abates and warm air rushes up from the south. At this time the warm air reacts with the snow-covered ground, and a dank and impenetrable fog called the _Snaghag_, or 'Snow-eater', settles over the hills. During the Great Melting the snow turns tiny rivulets and dry gullies into frightening deluges. Adding to the threat of floods are cold and heavy rains brought by the north wind. These rains last for a whole month. Summer days in the Ettenmoors are sunny and almost warm, but the nights remain very chilly. In the early days of Autumn, the brief warmth fades and dies as the moors prepare to embrace Winter again.

WARNING! Due to its wild and dangerous environment, and its rather uncivilised population, a visit to the Ettenmoors is considered unsuitable for all but the most determined thrill-seekers. Families, the elderly, the infirm and the very depressed will automatically be forbidden entry to this region.

_Natives: _Sociopathic, backstabbing Hillmen. Remnant contingents of unwashed, flesh-eating Orcs from the fallen fortress of Angmar, sporting gnashers that would give the average High Street dentist nightmares for a decade (assuming he/she survived the encounter). Goblins (small Orcs). And – wait for it -Trolls. No joke. Great big humongous, filthy, reeking, bad-tempered, foul-mouthed, rock-tossing, man-eating, half-naked bad boys. Humanoid in appearance, but that's where the similarity ends. These charming chaps are infinitely taller than the average basketballer and infinitely uglier. Hard to kill, with scaly skin, large feet, no toes and an average IQ running somewhere in the region of -10, these horrible, hulking halfwits will make your senile, incontinent Great Uncle Thaddeus look like a cross between Albert Einstein and Captain America. To make things even more exciting, they come in three thrilling varieties: Cave-trolls, Hill-trolls and Mountain-trolls, so there are little to no troll-free zones in the Ettenmoors. Indeed the only good thing that can be said about them is that they are rumoured to turn to stone in the daylight.

But that_ is_ just a rumour …

_Additional information: _Avoid any and all life forms in the Ettenmoors, particularly Trolls. Trolls are Middle Earth's biggest thieves. Your valuables are _not safe_ within their borders, so keep them hidden at all times or leave them at Reception upon arrival. It is also worth mentioning that these massive muggers are well known for their great fondness of passing travellers – and not in the amorous sense of the word, either. If you are foolish enough to discard METB advice in the hope of befriending a native - be they Troll, Orc or Goblin - and thrill to find yourself promptly invited to dinner, be prepared to become the main course. Any tourist brave enough to dare the Ettenmoors at any time does so at their own risk, and the METB will not accept any responsibility for wallets, limbs or lives lost as the result of ignorance and/or sheer stupidity.

_Places of Interest: _With its multitudinous clusters of loose-lying boulders, ragged hills and nearby mountains, the Ettenmoors is a geologist's dream! But beware: Trolls' favourite sport is rock-tossing, so take care that you don't find yourself inadvertently examining one from its underside …

For a slightly less deadly pastime, you may wish to visit the fallen fortress of Angmar just north of the border, former residence of the super-scary (but mercifully deceased) Witch-king, though, as this may yet be infested with Orcs, caution is also advised.

_Things to do: _Due to the irascible natives and unforgiving terrain, all available activities in Ettenmoor are considered to be highly dangerous. There is no such thing as simple hillwalking, mountaineering or cave-diving in this region of Arda. There is only _extreme_ hillwalking, _extreme_ mountaineering, _extreme_ cave-diving. All at your own risk. You have been warned.

_Things to avoid:_ Hills, mountains, caves, valleys, clusters of rocks.

_Recommended travel accompaniments: _Winter woollies. Parka. Foghorn. Headlamp. The SAS. Full body armour. Stun guns. An endless supply of mutton (required for bribes when your SAS bodyguards have been massacred, your full body armour's in shreds, your stun guns prove ineffective and you find yourself begging for your life at the potentially toeless foot of a lip-smacking native - though the METB does not guarantee that mutton will work even then). Coffin.

_METB Rating: _Five stars.

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_Author's Note_: Please review!


	6. Rhûn

**Disclaimer:** Lord of the Rings is owned by J.R.R. Tolkien, his family, New Line cinema, etc. I have written this for my own enjoyment.

**Credit: **Tuckborough dot net, Lord Of The Rings Wikia

**Rhûn**

* * *

_Geography: _Partially uncharted lands in far eastern Middle-earth. Bordered on the west by Wilderland and Mordor. Located south of Rhûn is Khand, and farther south is Harad. The inland Sea of Rhûn is located to the west on the border between Rhûn and Wilderland. There are mountains on the southwest side of the Sea and a forest on the northeast side, and wild white kine, or oxen, live near the shores. Geographically speaking, little is known of the eastern reaches of this vast land.

Rhûn is mainly a colossal, semiarid grassland plain, but it does boast massive fertile fields around the Sea of Rhûn, and its warm, humid climate and rich soil provides a wonderful arena where food and textile crops flourish all year round, providing ample food to comfortably feed its entire population.

Massive tectonic activity in its distant past caused great geographic upheaval, reshaping the contours of Rhûn as great swathes of land were swallowed by the sea and yet more disgorged from beneath the waves. The Orocarni, or Red Mountains (if they still exist), are a visual record of this; their distinctive colour is/was a result of thousands of years of sedimentation beneath the water before tectonic activity thrust them upwards. As a result, Rhûn is known to have vast stores of precious minerals and ores in the underground mines of these and other ranges.

Rhûn is recorded as the birthplace of at least three races of Arda: Elves, Dwarves and Men, though - to all knowledge - only some of the latter race reside there now.

_Natives: _The people of Rhûn are known as Easterlings (due to their country's location in the far east of Arda). Generally speaking, they are darker skinned, shorter and broader than their western counterparts, having an average height of 5'8''. Warning: Easterlings are _not _known for their sense of humour. Comments such as _short-arse_, _mini me _and _smurf_ will be answered with the business end of a scimitar. Or a bow. Possibly even an axe. The men of Rhûn sport short dark hair and women shoulder-length locks of the same colour. Peculiarly, eye-colouring is significantly more varied here than anywhere else in Arda; whereas western Middle-earthlings have mainly grey orbs (all elves, most men and a few hobbits, though dwarves are mercifully brown-eyed), Easterlings can also boast possession of sensual chocolate brown, fetching sea-blue and alluring emerald green peepers (though not all in the same face. Obviously.) The reason for this is unknown.

Easterlings are famed throughout Arda as great lovers of land. Unfortunately, it usually belongs to _other people_. Over the centuries they have repeatedly attacked and invaded, among others, Beleriand, Rohan and Gondor, stealing, raping and burning as they go. Enemies are either slaughtered en masse or taken into servitude. Women of enemy lands - where not killed outright - are forced into marriage. Often allied with the (now late) Dark Lord Sauron, the warrior Easterlings, including women who have been trained to fight, provided him with enormous armies, horse-powered siege towers, huge double-armed catapults, and ballistas - a type of giant crossbow which fires spikes, rock or metal.

_Additional information: _Between wars and skirmishes with neighbouring Khand, Easterlings can be a pleasant people who are quite content to mine their vast resources of ores, used - among other things - for making golden armour. Yes, that's right: _golden_ armour (tourists unlucky enough to glimpse a regiment of marauding Easterlings may be forgiven for thinking they are under attack by squadron of psychotic C3P0's).

Much of the country's produce comes from the lush, fertile fields directly adjacent to the Sea of Rhûn. In peacetime, the Easterlings are keen farmers and the land here yields crops such as cotton, flax, kurren, tropical grains, vegetables, melons, tubers, tobacco and grapes. The Sea itself contains an abundance of life and the coasts are littered with fishing villages. As a result, Rhûn's deliciously spicy seafood is second only to that of Dol Amroth. Located northwest of the Sea is Dorwinion, a region famous for its great gardens and home to the finest wines in all Middle-earth.

_Places of Interest: _Besides fishing villages, Rhûn also boasts many great walled towns, fortresses and cities of stone and wood, all of which are very medieval in style. This, in combination with the Easterlings warrior-like nature, would make any sizeable rhûnic settlement vastly appealing to (e.g.) macho gits looking to prove themselves, William Wallace wannabes, and obsessive computer addicts on enforced medical leave from unhealthy gaming marathons the likes of Medieval II: Total War/Call of Duty 4/etc.

_Things to do: _Easterlings are a proud people and ever keen to regale others with their bloody history. If you survive the first encounter with your host, be prepared to learn of the ancient warriors known as the Wainriders, who rode in chariots (à la Pharoah) during various conflicts with Gondor in the Third Age (they were eventually trounced by Eärnil II). Smile winningly as you listen in horror to the tale of scary national hero, Khamûl, an (allegedly) undead lord from Rhûn who flounced about in the same filthy black cloak for centuries, spreading terror (and bacteria) wherever he went.

Take a trip to Dorwinion and tour its fabulous (and numerous!) vineyards. Indulge in a drop (or vat) of Middle-earth's most potent wine! Or say goodbye to fake tan and top-up 'au naturale' by the sunny shores of the Sea of Rhûn. But be warned - that sun is HOT!

For those daring enough to test their combat skills, how about a fight to the death with one of the rampantly unfriendly locals, who will be more than happy to indulge you in this venture (Note: Tourists wishing to risk their lives in this foolish manner will be required to sign a legal disclaimer absolving the METB from any and all liability in relation to any act resulting in their own injury and/or death)?

If you fancy a less mortally dangerous pastime, then how about exploring the length and breadth of the mighty Thurin Forest in western Rhûn? Search for the Lost Entwives of Fangorn! And if you find them, then YOU can be the one to finally collect the longest-standing reward in the history of Creation (rumoured to be one barrel of water, delivered to you personally by Treebeard himself)! Or go on a Rhûn-wide hunt for Alatar and Pallando, the elusive Blue Wizards from Valinor (there is no known reward for finding them, which might explain why no one has bothered looking)!

**Note:** due to the alarming habit of people (and other sentient beings) disappearing in Rhûn, the METB strongly advises tourists to carry either a Sat Nav device or a compass.

_Things to avoid:_ Easterlings. At all costs. Especially if you are a woman.

_Recommended travel accompaniments: _Suntan lotion (minimum factor 50), fully stocked first-aid kit (please include corticosteroids, antihistamines and decongestants for those allergic to shellfish as these medications are not stocked locally), full body armour, GPS Tracker, a copy of J. Bruce Ismay III's infamous book _'How to beg for you Life'_, coffin (optional).

_METB Rating: _Four stars.

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	7. Rivendell

**Disclaimer:** Lord of the Rings is owned by J.R.R. Tolkien, his family, New Line cinema, etc. I have written this for my own enjoyment.

**Credit: **Tuckborough dot net, Lord of The Rings Wikia.

**Rivendell/Imladris**

* * *

_Geography: _Situated in a deep valley in eastern Eriador near the Misty Mountains, Rivendell - or Imladris, to give it its Sindarin name - is one of the last elven havens remaining in Middle-earth. Located by a narrow gorge of the River Bruinen. A peaceful, beautiful realm hidden from view in heather-strewn moors. Further concealed by tall firs growing on the higher mountain slopes, and beech and oak trees populating the lower valley. Can only be reached by means of a trained, elf-approved guide, a steep path leading down into the valley, and a whole lot of luck crossing the high, deadly narrow bridge (it has no parapets!) which spans the gorge and leads into Rivendell proper.

Rivendell's climate is cool-temperate and semi-continental with moderately warm summers, fairly snowy - but not frigid - winters and moderate precipitation. Seasons are more pronounced than in areas further west, but less extreme than the places east of the Misty Mountains.

Rivendell proper is a breathtaking structure seemingly carved out of living trees. Two-storied, tall and willowy, with graceful arches and flowing lines, it seems to sing out 'elegance' in silvery tones to all who enter its majestic rooms and halls. Countless colourful tapestries line the walls of every chamber and corridor, depicting scenes from every major battle and of all ancient elven realms past and present. With facilities to house over three hundred guests, it is not one of the larger holiday hot-spots, but it is certainly one of the most exclusive and luxurious.

An ideal location for families, couples, academics and those seeking a more refined destination!

_Natives: _Imladris' elves (also known as the Firstborn, or Eldar) are immortal beings who live ... well, forever, actually. An intrinsically peaceful people, Rivendell's indigenous population are friendly and merry, and have a great love of nature, music, poetry and art. They abhor violence in any shape or form, but have nonetheless been known to pick up arms and fight like a Samurai on crack when provoked. And they usually _are_ provoked by some fool or other (see the METB's companion pamphlets _Dark Lords of Arda: The Unofficial Biographies _and _A Complete History of the Orcs, _also known as_ The Elf in Myself_). Tall and preternaturally beautiful with silvery voices and luscious long (usually dark) locks, they move with ethereal grace and nobility. Even their lowliest kitchen maid makes Miss Universe look like a diseased heffer. What's more, they are stronger than the average weightlifter, can run faster than a greyhound, and have the acutest senses of any race in Arda (honeymooners be warned: if you absolutely _must_ consummate your marriage in Rivendell, spare your blushes the next morning by investing in a gag or two).

Elves are also the most experienced swordsmen in Middle-earth. And with the youngest-known elf clocking in at over three thousand years old, it's hardly a wonder. The founder of Rivendell, the outrageously hot Lord Elrond, is over six-and-a-half thousand years old, making your balding, toothless, ninety-four-year-old Great Aunt Mildred seem like a babe in nappies.

_Additional information: _Rivendell was founded well over four thousand years ago (1697 SA) by Lord Elrond and is a haven of peace and tranquillity in what has been, in the past, a very politically turbulent world. Known as the Last Homely House, it is often frequented by travellers from all over the world who are looking to rest their weary heads or escape a total skewering by undead horsemen. Visitors always receive a friendly welcome and a warm meal, and are able to relax in some of the most luxurious accommodations Middle-earth has to offer. So inviting and friendly is it that some people never leave (see METB pamphlet entitled _Ranger Danger!_).

_Places of Interest: _The dining hall is a true feast for the eyes (mainly because it has the greatest concentration of mouthwateringly delicious elves in the city). Looking for evening entertainment? Then ask for Lindir, Rivendell's answer to Enrique Iglesias (only better. And hotter); you will soon find yourself directed straight to the Hall of Fire, which boasts some of the finest poetry recitals, concerts and the most stunning vocal talent anywhere in any world. Even the worst elvish singer makes Swedish Nightingale Jenny Lind sound like a barking frog.

If you want to get back to nature, take a wander through Rivendell's many spectacular gardens, which are hugely admired throughout Middle-earth (or would be, if anyone could actually _find_ Rivendell).

Fancy brushing up on the local history? Allow the dishy twin sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir, to take you on a tour of the Last Homely House's vast library! It contains thousands of hand-written volumes on the history of all known races and cultures in Arda, each with exquisite etchings and delicate paintings. Unfortunately, you won't be able to _learn_ much about said races or cultures as none of the books are in English. Or _any_ known Terran language. Still, they _are_ pretty which, for the wholly superficial, is all that counts, really.

_Things to do: _Elf-spotting. Picnicking in the gardens. Elf-worrying (similar to sheep-worrying, minus the wool). Reading (sort of). Elf-bothering (self-explanatory). Painting. Elf-stalking (bring your own surveillance equipment). Weaving. Elf-control (similar to self-control, but without the 's'). Fishing. Elf-watching (similar to bird-watching. Bring your own binoculars. Or just spend a fortnight in the dining hall). Hillwalking.

For the more adventurous, try mountaineering with Glorfindel - but take care: he has been known to slip and fall to his death on occasion, so get ready to grab him if he looks the slightest bit woozy. If babysitting clumsy elf-lords in not your thing (no matter how pretty they are), try bungee jumping from the narrow stone bridge leading into the city proper (bring your own gear). And for those of you who _really_ enjoy a challenge, try Elf-wooing. Gents, you might have some luck (but only if you're a king of at least two realms). Ladies, forget it. No male elf has _ever_ married a human female (something that would be akin to a meara snogging a mule). And, no; no elf has ever snogged a bloke, either. So to those gents of the pink persuasion, be prepared to die if you try it.

Fancy a day's outing? Then how about a visit to the mighty Bruinen, a river famed for its vicious seahorses? But no paddling in the water, please, or they'll sweep you off your feet (and not in a good way)!

If all this sounds too strenuous, and you're simply looking to submerge yourself in the local culture (or communicate with your hosts), how about Sindarin lessons with Erestor? But be warned ladies: he might be drop-dead gorgeous, but he's also drop-dead boring. So if you're willing to take your chances and decide to swoon your way into his study, prepare yourself to fall into a coma shortly thereafter as he bangs on and on and on about transitive verbs and dipthongs.

_Things to avoid:_ Erestor.

_Recommended travel accompaniments: _METB handbook _Sindarin for Beginners _(available at Reception for a small fee). Gags (compulsory for honeymooners. May alternately be used on Erestor for those who wish to see him, but not hear him).

_METB Rating: _Two stars.

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	8. Cair Andros

**Disclaimer:** Lord of the Rings is owned by J.R.R. Tolkien, his family, New Line cinema, etc. I have written this for my own enjoyment.

**Credit: **Tuckborough dot com, Lord Of The Rings Wikia

**Cair Andros**

* * *

_Geography: _Island located in the middle of the River Anduin, east of Anórien and about thirty miles north of Osgiliath. Just over ten miles long and narrow, Cair Andros is formed like a ship. Its elvish name translates to 'ship of long foam'. The northern end is shaped like a ship's prow, and its sharp rocks split the Anduin's waves into bubbling white foam. Woods cover the island for most of its length.

The island's position has been of great strategic importance during times of war, being the only practical means for hostile eastern forces to sneak across the mighty Anduin into Gondor's heartlands. Amon Dîn, oldest of the Beacon-hills of Gondor (located on the mainland between the Drúadan Forest and the Grey Wood), was originally established to warn the people of Minas Tirith if Cair Andros had been breached.

Originally fortified by Gondorian military forces before the end of the second millennium (TA), though these fortresses had fallen into such disrepair that, nearly one thousand years later, it was deemed necessary to reinforce them. Unfortunately, these repairs, at over one hundred years old, are now in desperate need of their own extreme makeover.

Cair Andros was recently overrun by a 6,000-strong army of hostile men and exceptionally pungent orcs sent by (now-deceased) evil Dark Lord Sauron to prevent the Rohirrim from riding to Gondor's aid at the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. Fortunately, Sauron's forces were chased straight back out of Anórien by manly Rohirrim, proving that it never pays to underestimate a blond (let alone an entire_ army _of them). Sauron's unhappy horde were later trounced on Cair Andros by combined Rohirric and Gondorian troops.

_Natives: _Birds (and lots of them), but no known large fauna, though there are abundant fish in the surrounding river. Having no indigenous sentient population, Cair Andros is currently host to remnant Rohirric and Gondorian troops who are overseeing the post-war clean-up. The strapping blond Rohirrim are as noble and accommodating as ever. The noble Gondorians, however, are darker-haired and far more formal than their horsey friends. So mind your p's and q's, folks, because annoying a man with a sword is never wise.

_Additional information: _Due to part-habitation by the very proper Gondorians, Cair Andros is currently an ideal destination for ultra posh military historians and equally posh archaeologists eager to explore some truly ancient ruins! But be quick! Because the METB is offering a fifty percent discount on this holiday destination to all skilled labourers, stonemasons, architects, groundsmen and tree surgeons (but only if they promise to behave themselves at all times)! So for those of you who fancy a once-in-a-lifetime busman's holiday at an outrageously knockdown price (and have no objections to swallowing a book on etiquette), crack open the piggy bank and relish in the opportunity to help make Cair Andros ship-shape and Bristol fashion once more!

WARNING! Whilst it is important not to offend the genteel gents from the South, the METB would recommend that tourists try not to out-posh them. This will be seen as open mockery and one may find oneself swinging from the end of a very short rope (fastened to the branch of a very tall tree - possibly an Entwife) before one can say 'Goheno nin!'. Also, don't try to act all hoity toity with the grand Gondorians whilst sneering at the more earthy Rohirrim as a (massive) fist in the face usually hurts.

_Places of Interest: _The woods (those Entwives are _still_ lost and that barrel of water from Treebeard is _still_ up for grabs!). Numerous crumbling fortress ruins. Huge smoking pyres of enemy corpses (bring your own gas masks).

_Things to do: _Lots and lots of back-breaking work (from dawn 'til dusk). Cliff-diving during free time (beware of the deadly sharp rocks!). Eating by camp-fire! Sleeping under the stars (Cair Andros has no hostelry). Sing-a-longs with soldiers (the Rohirrim, in particular, love this). Diving. Fishing.

**Note: **Think Green! If you stumble across either an enemy corpse or free-floating limbs whilst undertaking either of the latter two pastimes, please do your bit for the environment by notifying the nearest military personnel who will see to their immediate recovery and safe disposal. Though not dangerous, decomposition makes orcs vastly more toxic and unsightly than usual!

_Things to avoid:_ The fairly massive piles of poo scattered throughout the island, particularly noticeable in open areas (courtesy of the ridiculous amount of birds - none of them edible). Building-site humour. Offending the Gondorians. Patronising the Rohirrim. Diving onto sharp rocks (may lead to serious injury and/or death).

_Recommended travel accompaniments:_ Face-masks_. _Antibacterial hand wash. Antibacterial wipes. Sleeping bags. Rations. Lucozade (or preferred energy drink). Fishing rods. Diving equipment. First aid kits. Trowels, hoes, rubble sacks, hammers and other equipment required for complete overhaul of devastated woods and crumbling medieval fortresses. Please refrain from bringing anything too advanced as it may confuse and/or confound the locals. Safety helmets _will_ be considered, but be aware that your Gondorian and Rohirric hosts are more than manly enough to go 'commando' and do without them (mainly because they haven't been invented yet). So, as far as your head goes, dare to be bare (if you don't want to look like a screaming pansy).

_METB Rating: _Three stars.

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	9. Bree

**Disclaimer:** Lord of the Rings is owned by J.R.R. Tolkien, his family, New Line cinema, etc. I have written this for my own enjoyment.

**Credit: **Tuckborough dot net.

**Bree**

* * *

_Geography: _Quaint village in Eriador near the Shire, nestled on the crossroads of the Great East Road and the Greenway (Royal Road linking the kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor). Situated on the western side of Bree-hill. A deep dike and a hedge form a semi-circular fence enclosing the village against the hill. Gates can be found on the western and southern sides of the hedge, which remain closed and guarded at night.

Contains approximately one hundred stone houses, set fairly close together by the hillside, though there are smaller dwellings further up the slopes. Roads and pathways winding through the village are basic and narrow, and used mainly by horses and pedestrians.

Wood is the main fuel of source in Bree (and throughout Middle-earth), though oil and candles are widely used for illumination. **Note**: 'Faggot' is the Arda-wide term for a small log of wood used in fires and NOT a homophobic nickname for a gentleman of the pink persuasion. Therefore, if your kindly host offers you one or two to heat up your bedroom, DO NOT get your hopes up and/or do NOT launch into a detailed explanation justifying both your sexual orientation and your views on multiple partners. This will only confuse and frighten your host, and possibly lead to your immediate expulsion from Bree.

_Natives: _Bree is the only place in Arda where humans and hobbits dwell together. Humans dwell in the stone houses and hobbits live mainly in smaller houses or Smials burrowed into hillside, though both races work harmoniously together in the running of the village and its pub, smithies, stables, etc.

_Additional information: _Given Bree's location on the busiest main road in Eriador, it has become a thriving community, mainly due to the custom received from travellers passing through on their way to or from various destinations between Rivendell further east, and the Grey Havens to the west. Since the happy conclusion of the recent war, visitors from the southern regions of Middle-earth have also notably increased as messengers, tradesmen and civilian traffic now utilise the North-South Road in greater numbers, enjoying the new safety in venturing further afield without being accosted by thieves and/or bloodthirsty enemies.

Being a medieval-style village, it is only fair to warn potential tourists that Bree has absolutely no lavatories, and that the phenomena of plumbing is as familiar to the locals as a lunar landing. That means no en-suite facilities at the Prancing Pony, folks, and not so much as a public toilet in sight. So if you're one of those not-so-chirpy types who needs a power shower to wake themselves up in the morning, forget it. At the most, you'll have the use of a (communal) wooden tub that will be delivered to your chambers on request (please ask for the spare if yours still bears tell-tale scum-marks from the previous occupant).

Hot water for bathing is also only on request as it must be collected at the nearby river, heated, then lugged upstairs by general dogsbody, Nob the hobbit. For any other morning ablutions, please use the washbowl and stingy pitcher of (ice-cold) water supplied on the dresser, compliments of the management.

As for answering the call of nature, the METB can assure tourists that each room comes complete with its own chamber pot, which - for propriety's sake - may be found sitting discreetly under the bed (but you'd better hope the chambermaid remembered to clean it after the departure of the previous guest - probably a smelly, shifty Ranger-type).

_Places of Interest: _The Prancing Pony is Bree's most popular pub (probably because it's the only pub in the village) and boasts some of the best ale in Arda. Rumour has it that it was enchanted by a crotchety old wizard who happened to find himself in one of the few good moods of his life at the time, something the landlord, Barliman Butterbur, is eternally relieved about. Gastronauts would do well not to expect fine dining as the pub itself offers rather basic fare, but it is hearty and delicious. If it's still not to your liking, bring your own rations as there's no other possibility of a decent meal for miles, and insulting the cook will only get you a clobbering from an angry hobbit (using a very heavy skillet) and eviction by an affronted landlord.

_Things to do: _Drinking. Smoking. Eating. Dancing on tables. People-watching in the main bar (a particularly satisfying pastime given the sheer variety of visitors to the village).

Looking to explore Bree's history? Visit the monument to the men and hobbits who died in the Battle of Bree, and marvel at the story of how their comrades finally routed the marauding band of brigands and ruffians with little more than half a dozen pewter tankards and a few well-aimed apples (using a technique commonly referred to as the 'Gamgee Flick'). Or join the locals over a pint and frown in disapproval at the tale of the Rowdy Ranger who hurled abuse at their respectable innkeeper! Listen in awe to the tale of the Disappearing Hobbit who fell off a table and was never seen again! Shiver in horror when you hear of the terrifying Nazgûl, a group of vicious delinquents in long black hoodies who trashed the Prancing Pony's hobbit accommodations (probably because the beds were too small to sleep in comfortably) and roamed through the streets afterwards, shrieking like frustrated insomniacs for the rest of the night.

Fancy exploring the surrounding areas? Then why not visit the equally quaint villages of Archet (on the southwestern edge of the Chetwood), Combe (located in a deep valley east of Bree) or Staddle (on the southeastern side of Bree-hill)?

If you are of the opinion that 'when you've seen one quaint village, you've seen them all', and you're looking for something a little more exciting, we suggest you take a leisurely stroll to Chetwood just outside Bree. The Great East Road runs through its southern edge, so it's relatively well travelled. But be warned! It's ridden with robbers (and no doubt Rangers too) lurking in wait to spring upon wealthy travellers and tourists! If this doesn't put you off (or you're a swaggering idiot of a body-builder who thinks they're no threat to you), then by all means, go for it. But please note that the woods are home to massive, mutant wolves and other unspeakable beasties who might view your overdeveloped 'guns' as more of a super-sized snack than an actual threat to their lives.

Having made it through the woods without incident (or having successfully managed to subdue your attackers and/or slay the local fauna and _still_ have all limbs attached) then take a carefree wander over to the east side and discover the fabulous Midgewater Marshes, home to vast stretches of reeking, mucky water and a gazillion-plus man-eating insects - though the METB would recommend you take a tank or three of insect repellent and full body armour if you want to return alive.

_Things to avoid:_ Vicious delinquents in long black hoodies. Insulting hobbits (Bree is infested with over-protective Rangers under strict orders to maim and/or kill anyone who offends and/or harms the little folk, and they will carry out said orders with relish). All roads and public footpaths. Why? Because there are _no sewers _in Bree! Not a one. Which means the streets are literally awash with pee and strewn with poo. Human, hobbit, horsey and many, many more disgusting, malodorous varieties. Have a nice day!

_Recommended travel accompaniments: _Wellington boots/galoshes/gumboots (for traversing the filth-ridden streets). Indoor shoes. Portaloo. Reams and reams of antibacterial wipes, and absolutely _gallons_ of antibacterial soap (never trust a handshake in Bree. They've been known to lead to violent bouts of gastric flu). Gas mask. Industrial strength insect repellent (and lots of it).

_METB Rating: _Two stars (if one remains within the village proper).

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